


god bless this perfect shitstorm

by zhoelaces



Series: The Elusive Pokemon Master | Red Drabbles [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: FireRed & LeafGreen | Pokemon FireRed & LeafGreen Versions
Genre: Angst, Pokemon Death, but boy do i love me some angst, my interp of red uses a diff team btw, this is a little violent? not super graphic but not entirely tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27860758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhoelaces/pseuds/zhoelaces
Summary: One of the last confrontations against the villainous Team Rocket that the boy encounters, yet it isn't a swift victory like he imagined it'd be.
Series: The Elusive Pokemon Master | Red Drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039617
Kudos: 6





	god bless this perfect shitstorm

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Festival of Champions doujin](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/721138) by Seijun Tombo. 



Bright crimson sparks with the embers of rage with every step along the cracked tiled floor. Each flash of light from an orb capsule sending out nothing more than a tool is counteracted with a companion. Bolts of electricity and plumes of flames char their surroundings while pillars of vines and shadowy pulses finish the jobs easily. Any wayward thug that crosses the boy’s path add more fuel to his fury-filled fire. The blazing hot flickers of light that boil his blood only strengthen as he keeps climbing the tower. Not even the ginger he so commonly crosses paths with can shake the anger behind his eyes. 

“ Tch- Your true opponent is the Boss, not me, ” the rival scoffs with a disgruntled look on his features and a wave of his hand after a brief one-on-one before the black-haired boy stopped calling for attacks. Although taking a win is a tempting offer, ripping it away without a challenge is too easy for a great trainer. The black-haired boy’s rival is above that. He doesn’t need to take advantage of the cinnabar boy to claim a victory. That’s not what the strongest would do. Beating someone who’s already lost the battle wouldn’t help him claim the victory in this war.

“ Don’t you know that you need to  _ attack _ to win in a battle? You can’t even think straight here! Whatever, not my fault if someone puts you back in your place. Besides, I’ve got some training to do. ” All the ginger gets in response is a brisk pace passing by and a glimpse of an extended middle finger. Jade eyes narrow at that unexpected response but he brushes it off as the two trainers’ paths separate once more. Though that’s only an assumption made by the ravenet. The fact that he’s acting so out of character is unsettling in the emerald eyes of the spiky-haired boy. 

“ Did you battle this far alone? ” a disheveled man questions as the rope bindings on his wrists and ankles, severed by claws of a large canine accompanying the boy, drop to the floor. He’s one of the several hostages that slowed the trainer down, not being able to turn them away despite the anger he harbors. “ Are you not scared of the adults? They’re members of the yakuza, you know... ” He pushes up his glasses as he examines the boy further and takes out a Poké Ball, holding it out. The man’s brows are knit with concern as a shaky hand reaches out, the black fabric of a fingerless glove curling around the red-and-white orb as he takes it. 

“ This is a Lapras, a rarer Pokémon to Kanto. It’s very intelligent and should help you against the Rocket Boss’ ground types, ” he explains, “ Though... You’re boiling over with rage. Whether or not you utilize this Pokémon, Team Rocket can and will easily crush you like this. ” For the first time in that exchange, vermillion hues refocus and glare at the worker. An expression filled with nothing but malicious vengeance gets the stranger to shudder at the intensity the boy holds in his crimson gaze. The ball is shoved carelessly into a pocket and the kid jerks away with little regard for the man. No sign of gratitude shows as the Arcanine is recalled, no Pokémon seen out with the boy as he leaves the room, not even a glance back to make sure that the company’s employee can safely leave and return home to whatever family awaits his safe return. 

In the hall of silence with not a single trace of a poor excuse of a trainer, that question emerges and festers in his mind.

_ Am I doing what’s right? _

No clear answer comes to mind. He can’t justify his actions with anger clouding his judgement, his frustration making everything seem so much more complicated and harder to understand. It brings forth the potent fumes of a fire, clouds of smoke turning everything into a dark gray blur, that fog up his senses. The question is left unanswered as the boy cannot piece together a cohesive answer. He knows what he feels. He  _ has _ to be doing something right in all this. It’s a feeling deep down that rests in his heart and soul, burning bright like flames catching on the leaves of the forest. 

Yet the man’s words, the one that aided him, bothers him. To be crushed by his own emotions... No, he won’t let that happen. He’ll go against all odds to prevail because that’s all he can clearly think of. He won’t lose here, he’ll make sure of that even if it takes all his might. It’ll be a victory just like the others, easily wasting away the supposedly powerful boss. It should be easy if he was able to get to this point. After all, shouldn’t a follower’s strength reflect their leader’s? That’s why he’s so confident as he gets to the office in which the Boss is hiding. 

A flick of the wrist tosses the new red-and-white out beside him, the Lapras emerging and blinking at her new trainer. The boy points at the door with a lowered head, the brim of his vermillion hat covering his crimson eyes from the Pokémon’s view. It takes a moment for it to click that she needs to attack. A disconnect between the human and the creature doesn’t raise any flags in his narrow-focused mind. 

He can’t even acknowledge his own flaws.

Shards of ice hurl at the door before the boy pushes it open, the attack not needed as the knob was never locked. A man with a sinister gleam in his eyes awaits him. His jet suit brandishing a bright red  **R** on the pocket designating him as the Boss that the trainer is after. Another man is in the room yet he’s hardly relevant to the boy. Not even a glance to ensure he’s safe is granted to the other man. Crimson eyes are ablaze under the rim of his signature hat as they stare at his soon-to-be opponent. All he gets is a resting smirk in return.

“ Ah, it’s you. That boy from the hideout. I had a feeling you’d show up, ” he taunts as he steps out from behind the desk and walks closer to the doorway the shaking child stands in. A hand gestures to the nervous man sitting at a stool, “ I’ve just been going over a vital business proposition with the president of this company. Though it’s a bit too much of a grown-up matter for you. It’s in your best interest to stay out of adult matters... Unless your desire is to perish where you stand. ”

The Boss’ enemy doesn’t back down. He scoffs at the boy’s arrogance and readies a Poké Ball, not wasting a second longer with idle chatter as a Rhyperior is sent out. The kid quickly gestures to get the upper hand but one Stomp from the dual rock/ground-type sends the transport Pokémon down. Her pained cry breaks through the boy’s anger for just a moment as he looks, a sudden realization that  _ maybe _ he’s not prepared for this . Yet Lapras pushes through and he continues on, disregarding his second thoughts as his newest teammate shows signs of still being able to retaliate. That brief bit of self-awareness is gone in the blink of an eye.

Yet again the Rhyperior strikes first with ease, dodging the shards of ice hurled at it without much issue. The drill on the rocky Pokémon’s head whirrs as it breaks through some of the skin of the transport Pokémon. Blood is drawn and the attack is enough for the weak Loch Ness to be left unable to keep going. All of the boy’s Pokémon are sent out to leave no room for vulnerability, no room where the wicked boss could take the moment to try and strike the boy. To play such a dirty and underhanded card is to be expected. It’s what many of the grunts tried to do in those brief moments where a Pokémon would switch out. Even after defeat, he was nearly grabbed a few times. An Arcanine and Ivysaur stand on either side of him, a Pikachu instinctively going onto his shoulder, a Gengar floating in front of him, and his Lapras staying down behind him without the thought to recall her. She’ll be fine for just a few more minutes. He already has a loose idea in his mind for how the battle should go.

“ Revealing your whole team to your opponent? That’s a big mistake, boy, ” the man observes with a slightly intrigued look in his eyes, no concern for the outcome the child has planned out showing in the man’s thoughtful expression. That look confuses the child. For there to be no sign of panic or fear. Compared to himself, he can’t even tell if his trembling is from fear or rage. 

The fight continues on and the child manages to take down both a Rhyperior and Nidorina with only his starter before the Ivysaur can’t continue any longer. He lets his electric rodent into the fight when a Kangaskhan is revealed to be his next opponent. The Pikachu’s cheeks crackle with electricity as a motion for a powerful Volt Tackle is called for. A lack of delay in the attack catches the parent Pokémon off guard, the small mouse slamming hard into rough hide that narrowly misses the child in the Kangaskhan’s possession. The lack of concern from the parent despite the clear danger the baby Pokémon doesn’t alarm the poor excuse of a trainer that commands it. A call for Mega Punch is countered by a gesture for Iron Tail. The bolt-shaped appendage coats in iron and smashes against the large claws balled into a fist that Denki’s opponent has. 

The mouse moves without another command and strikes with Thunderbolt, flashes of yellow engulfing the opponent and outcries of both Pokémon splitting the air. A gesture for the same attack is caught in the corner of chocolate eyes, the Pikachu firing off another wave of electricity before the parent Pokémon can retaliate. 

The tension in the air thickens as the buzz of scarlet cheek pouches keeps the air from getting too quiet. The man facing the child no longer has a smirk that crinkles the corners of his eyes or a thoughtful look as he tries to decipher the boy’s decisions. He’s picked up on the obvious pattern that the mindless child has been commanding with silent gestures. Attack nonstop and leave no openings. That’s how the Pokémon he clearly trained with bested three of his own. The lead was a waste of potential, leaving the match at an extreme disadvantage already with only a dual grass/poison-type and the levitating ghost/poison-type being the only monsters to not suffer super-effective attacks from the primarily ground-type quad of merciless Pokémon.

The Boss’ ace comes out looming over the tiny mouse. The evolved form of the poison needle Pokémon, similarities to the Rhyperior with both being known as the drill Pokémon, roars with great power and shakes the room. It only makes the boy and his Pikachu more determined. A small bit of hope that, with this final hurdle, they’ll have their victory. A motion for Quick Attack is met with Double Kick making for an easy counter. The mouse Pokémon already faced a prior opponent and is more worn than the looming bipedal monster that challenges him.  _ “ _ _ Get up, Denki! _ _ ” _ the trainer’s silent pleas echo in his cluttered mind, a single order that he cannot vocalize.

An Earthquake proves the thought of a command to be ineffective. The ground-shaking attack causes furniture to move, the helpless company’s president holding onto what he can as tiles crack and raise across the floor, and a powerful shockwave to slam into the tiny mouse. A shrill squeak filled with pain marks the fall of the electric rodent. There was no hope for the determined mouse to make it through the whole battle. A quick motion for one of the Pokémon that stood by their trainer to take the Pikachu’s place is motioned for before the trainer leaves the corner of “safety” and runs onto the battlefield. No thoughts run through his mind as his body rushes forward to retrieve the injured mouse.

The most careless mistake the boy makes is one the Boss takes full advantage of. A quick call of a command that doesn’t register until it’s too late catches him off guard. The slam of a strong claw to the head puts the preteen in a dizzying daze and removes the shield over his eyes, his hands unsure of what to do as he reaches for his Arcanine’s fur to steady himself. It fails as he falters with another attack directed at him and the fire-type lunges forward to take the blunt of the brutal attack. He’s left on the ground, breathing hard with crimson eyes unfocusing and refocusing on what’s in front. The loud mixture of growls and barking with yelps and whines from his companion are a sour melody much like nails grazing a chalkboard.

Whatever the next command is, the child can’t process it before it’s carried out. The violet Pokémon gets more brutal with the attacks and wine splatters tile with each yelp increasing in frequency. It’s nonstop agony to hear as hands clasp over his ears and his eyes shut tight. _Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!_

But not like that.

His eyes open after a few seconds when his senses start to come back and he hesitantly moves his hands away to instead push himself up. Crimson hues wide in horror at seeing the matted fur of his partner, the lumbering canine faltering and the whimpers growing weaker. One last call for a violent ground-type attack from the man sends the dog towards the large glass windows. There’s nothing stopping the glass from shattering and the sharp sound piercing through the air. He fights through the dizziness as adrenaline courses through his veins only to see his partner plummeting, anyone looking up at the towering building gasping and screaming in horror at the sight.

Anger doesn’t rush to replace the feeling of pure devastation that crushes him, the pit in his stomach consuming him as he staggers back and his grip on reality starts to lose itself. The Pokémon shared a title of  _ Legendary _ despite not being one, with such a powerful figure underneath the soft fluff that he loved to bury his hands in, all the times he spent camping along routes and cuddled up next to her. 

_ Hibana. _

That name rings in his ears as his eyes look back to the man with only a look of terror. No longer does he believe he can win. The grunts that he’s faced before were just to let his guard down about the  _ real _ threat. He’s won so many battles but they weren’t enough to win the war against the villainous organization.

A mouse, the one that he dove after to save from such a cruel fate only to backfire on him, tugs at his pant leg with sparking cheeks. They’re still at a disadvantage, far greater than ever before now, but hope hasn’t been lost… Right? It can’t be over, it shouldn’t be over! The credits can’t roll on his story just yet and leave a crestfallen hero in nothing but despair. He looks up with shaky breath and trembling hands at the leader who stands with his hands behind his back and a patient look masking his utter impatience and disgust at the boy in front of him.

“ What an unfortunate turn of events. That is why I advised you to stay out of adult business,  _ Red _ . No one needed to be hurt, ” he says with an unreadable air. Part of the boy wants to say that the Boss looks  _ regretful  _ of the actions carried out by his ace. Yet how can someone show sympathy and still keep the murderer out? His words were full of nothing but pity and taunting that didn’t click in the mind of the young boy. He lowers his head to see two chocolate eyes staring up and the red cheek pouches of the little mouse sparking with yellowish-white hues. His hands ball into fists and he glares up at the man once again and nudges Denki with his leg to go and retaliate.

“ Did you not learn your lesson? ” The man exclaims with the controlled air around him being chipped away by the sheer incompetence of the child. It’s drowned out by the hateful repetition in Red’s mind as his weakened Pokémon steps forward and his tail is coated in a sheet of iron.  _ Giovanni, Giovanni, Giovanni- _ is what his mind can’t stop looping until he raises an arm and points at the man.  _ Get him, Denki! Make him pay!! _

He needs a victory, some way to get revenge. Something that can make Hibana’s sacrifice worth it. Even if it goes against his will, the anger bubbling inside him once more clouds his judgement and leaves him vulnerable once again as he’s blinded to the circumstances. The mouse darts out of the way of the rapid onslaught of attacks as the boy falls back to stand by his other team members, leaning against his sore Lapras and keeping a hand on his Ivysaur’s rough skin while his Gengar rests by his heels. He shakes more with every attack the poison needle Pokémon throws at the little Pikachu, the scene already unfolding in his mind where the little mouse, his first wild capture, is sent plummeting to his demise. 

But Giovanni knows when his time is being wasted. One final Earthquake is called for to stop the boy and the remains of his strained team to put him back in his place. The goal is to hold off yet he hardly cares if it’s at the expense of the child as the attack focuses on the walls and foundation of the top floor, paving the way for the leader to swiftly recall the Nidoking and make his escape while the boy is left scrambling in a state between awareness and not. The last thing he sees before his vision clouds and the surroundings buckle around him is yellow fur jumping at him and curling up in his arms.

When the crumbling roof’s dust clouds clear, the boy’s revealed with his injured team around him, pain coursing through his battered body. A weak attempt at a Protect from his transport Pokémon saved the team from any more losses yet the damage has already been done. Puddles of wine pool beneath fur, scales, and skin and breathing feels like such a chore to keep doing. A heaving chest pushing air in and out aches, a throat burning with the embers of his rage fully against him, flames coursing in his veins with a stinging, sharp pain. It’s too dizzying to sit up, to keep his eyes open as the bright sun peaks through the opening in the roof, no hat to shield his eyes. The temptation to succumb to the black spots in his vision is too strong as his head tilts to the side with the tension in his neck ebbing.

_ “ _ _ Toki- _ _ ” _ The rest of the panicked voice with hurried footsteps tripping over debris and torn-up tile fades into the deafening darkness that envelopes the injured boy, providing him a dull numbness to the world.


End file.
